The Witcher and the source
by ASDFGHJKLZX
Summary: The Wild Hunt has been defeated. The third war with Nilfgaard is over. No longer on the run, Ciri is now free to enjoy her life. But is she truly free? At Kaer Morhen, an old friend returns.
1. Chapter 1

**To all of you who have come and gave my story a chance, I thank you. But first I feel I must tell you readers a few things.**

 **First, If you havent read any of the Witcher books, I advise that you read them. They are excellent. And Although It wont be necessary to understand this story, it will help a bit. Especially with a few characters and events.**

 **Second. This story takes place after the Witcher 3, and therefore based on player choices some things may be different in this story than they would be in someone elses.**

 **Third. I hope you enjoy. And please feel free to leave a review if you feel you have anything yo say.**

The harsh, snowy winds of winter collided savagely against the old walls of the worn down fortress. The walls creaked like charred wood, and the windows sounded like they would come crashing down at any moment. The frost stuck to the windows like glue, making it near impossible for anyone to see the outside. But there was no need. The night was dark, and the weather even colder. Not a soul would think to be outside now.

The temperature outside the fortress was freezing, but on the inside it was much more warm and pleasant. It always was. The bight, warm flames rose from the great hearth up into the chimney. The warmth radiated from the flames, suckling into the flesh and bones of the inhabitants sitting around the enormous dining table of the great hall.

Ciri sat on one of the wooden chairs surrounding the table, in between Geralt and Yennefer. Opposite of them sat the chestnut haired sorceress, Triss Merigold . And next to her sat Keira Metz, and Lambert. No one sat at the head of the table. No one even though too.

The flame from the hearth continued to roar and crack, yet it was drowned out by the voices of the six sitting along the table. Ciri watched them as they spoke and laughed with one another, smiling. She enjoyed these nights with her friends. She needed them.

They had already been conversing for much of the night, and they continued to even now.

Lambert and Keira seemed to be the most talkative, for they had much to talk about. They had apparently been to many places in the past few months, and done many things, including but not limited to the cure of the catriona plague. Ciri had seen its effect up close and personally. It was a horrible disease. The cure was a great gift.

The beautiful auburn haired sorceress Triss Merigold kept mostly quieter than the rest. She would smile, and laugh at some of the stories, jokes, and insults, but she did not say much herself. Even when asked a question she answered very quickly and plainly. She wasn't her usual cheerful and talkative self Ciri noticed. But she kept it to her herself. There was no need in pointing it out in front of everyone.

Geralt and Yennefer seemed to be the complete opposite of Triss however. The two were very talkative throughout the night, despite the fact that they had very little to tell. After the events of skellige, and the end of the third war with nilfgaard, Geralt and Yennefer retreated away from the usual rubble and into their own solitude. The two had spent the last several months alone in Kaer Morhen, away from everyone and everything. Even Ciri. But she did not mind. They deserved their happiness together. And Ciri still had much of the world left to see and discover. There were also plenty of monsters that needed killing.

The night was beginning to grow older as the group conversed, and the wind outside seemed to grow harsher by the passing time as well. Even with the talking and laughing, Ciris eyes began to feel heavy, and she started to yawn in periodic intervals. The others did not seem sleepy at all, except for Triss, who Ciri noticed seemed even more tired than her. It was probably why she was so quiet Ciri figured.

Slumber threatened to overcome Ciri soon, therefore she decided to retreat to a room herself rather than fall asleep with her head on the table like a drunkard. She bid farewell to her friends, and after some protests by Yennefer and Lambert, she stood up yawning, streched, and began her descent into the darkness of Kaer Morhen. She was ready to sleep, and she was about to, but she was stopped in her tracks.

The reason being that suddenly, and without warning or thought, there came a series of loud knocks from the large doors guarding the entrance of Kaer Morhen. Immediately Ciri and the group sitting at the table pricked their ears at the sound.

Geralt was the first to stand, grabbing his steel blade which was leaning on the edge of the dining table. Lambert stood up next, and after him Yennefer. Keira and triss remained in their seats while Ciri stood still like a stump. The knocks rang across the vast halls of Kaer Morhen once again, this time with even more force. Even the the walls and windows seemed to vibrate against the force.

The two Witchers—Geralt and Lambert approached the large iron doors with caution. They held their swords in their hands, and did not loose focus on the doors.

They neared them, and from the outside Ciri could hear a voice. She did not recognize the voice however. It was muffled and overtaken by the cracking flames from the hearth, and the harsh snowy winds from the outside. But it seemed that Geralt and Lambert did recognize the voice however, because the two Witchers immediately lowered their blades and relaxed their bodies. Then without thought, Geralt proceeded to open the large iron doors.

At first the only thing that entered the entrance of Kaer Morhen was the cold ice. Quickly the ground close the entrance began to be covered with ice. But then, much to everyone's surprise, entered the cause of the anxiety.

" Greetings, Eskel" Geralt was the first to greet the dark haired Witcher as he entered.

" Wolf…" Eskel returned the favor, gripping Geralt in a hug. " Lambert", he then greeted with a nod of his head.

" You returned?" Geralt asked immediately. " I didn't think you would"

" Neither did I" Eskel answered with a shrug of his shoulders. " But I did not come alone"

" Finally found a woman that can overlook your face then?" Lambert gave his comrade a smirk.

" Very funny" Eskel said, visibly annoyed. " But no. I've brought an old friend. A surprise"

" Old friend? Who is it?" Geralt raised his eyebrows.

" See for yourself"

Once again the great hall was filled with silence and anticipation. All three sorceresses sitting along the dining table glanced at each other momentarily, then shrugged their shoulders obliviously. Geralt and Lambert waited patiently, and quietly. And Ciri kept her eyes focused on the entrance of the old fortress. No one knew who would walk through the door. No one except for Eskel. And he kept a smile on his scarred face.

After a moment, he finally entered. The man. The stranger. Dressed in all black leather with a cloak covering most of his head and face. On his back hung two swords.

" Greetings, Gwynbleid" the stranger greeted from under the cover of his hood. His voice was slightly deep, but had a hint of youth in it as well. " It's been a very long time"

" A surprise indeed" Geralt approached the man, gripping his hand and embracing him in a quick hug. Once they released each other, then stranger turned his attention to Lambert.

" Take the cloak off, Jason" Lambert said as he neared the man. " We can barely recognize you"'

The man did as he was told, and upon first seeing his appearance Ciri and the other sorceresses almost gasped with disbelief.

The man was slightly taller than Geralt, and leaner, but the definition of his body was still clear. He had long, black, semi curly hair extending down below his neck. His face, which from what Ciri could see in the distance, gave the impression of a young man in his twenties, although she was not certain. He had no facial hair either, only a slightly pointy nose and and thin arching eyebrows along with those glowing yellow eyes. The more Ciri looked at the man, the more he reminded her of Coen. The thought made her lower her head.

After greeting each other with open arms, the two Witchers separated.

" Surprised to see me?" Jason asked as he watched his comrades.

" We are" Geralt admitted.

" In truth" Lambert joined in. " We thought you were dead"

" I thought the same of you" Jason replied. " I thought the same of all of us…but it seems we were all wrong"

" Fortunately" Geralt agreed with a slight smile and a nod of his head.

" Enough talk about death" Eskel said, getting in between the men. " Let's close these doors, we don't want the heat to escape. And you, Jason, come on. We have others to introduce you to"

The strange Witcher nodded his head in confirmation, and then followed his comrades back to the table in which the sorceresses found themselves. He greeted them, quickly, and without much interest it seemed. To Yennefer, he gave only a nod and a semi smile. To Keira, a smile. And to Triss a bow of his head and a greater smile than he gave the other two. Then, the attention turned to Ciri, who still found herself standing alone and away from the table. She felt a slight chill crawl down her back as the man looked at her. But fortunately he did gaze long. After Geralt introduced the two, the man gave a quick nod, then turned away from her quickly. He did not say a word, and neither did she.

" Now you have been introduced to everyone" Eskel said to Jason after the greetings were finally completed. " Now we can move on from this"

" And we can drink" Added Lambert, who had already reclaimed his seat next to Keira. " A celebration to old friends"

" How about it?" Geralt asked.

The Witcher known as Jason took a while to respond, likely contemplating the offer from his fellow comrades. But after a momentary thought he finally answered.

" I apologize" he said. " But the road here was long. I think I'll rest now"

" I as well" Eskel agreed.

" Are you sure, boys" Lambert urged them, holding a small tankard in his hand as bait. " Not even one little drink?"

" Leave them Lambert" Keira said to the Witcher. " I think it's time we go to sleep ourselves. My eyes are beginning to feel heavy"

" Mine too" Yennefer claimed as she yawned. " Come Geralt. Let us go to bed"

" Fine" Lambert gave in, drinking the last of his mead in one final gulp. After he drank it, he burped, then wiped his mouth clean.

The group sitting around the table now began to disperse their own separate ways. Triss retreated alone. Keira with Lambert. And Yennefer and Geralt were ready to head up the stairs and to their slumber as well. But before they did, Geralt spoke to the mysterious Witcher.

" It's been a very long time since I was last here" Jason's eyes wandered across the great hall as he spoke. " I have forgotten much"

Geralt glanced back at Yennefer, who had been waiting for him. With a gesture of his head, he urged to go on without him. Ciri, for some strange and unknown reason, continued to stand and watch the two.

" Come" Geralt said to the man. " I'll take you to your room"

And with that, the two Witchers made their way from the great hall and up the stairs to the rooms. Ciri was now alone. And finally, since there were no more surprises, she retreated as well.

The stairs and hallways leading to the upper rooms of the fortress were cold and dark. Any ordinary person would have trouble seeing in the darkness, and would probably run into every wall and doorway. But fortunately for the two men currently walking the dark halls, they were not ordinary people. Geralt could see in the dark just about as well as he could in the light. Jason could too. So the two had no problem walking in the darkness.

The stroll down the hallway and up to the rooms had been silent, and without even looking at him Geralt could feel the awkwardness which clouded over his comrade. He didn't blame him though. Geralt felt it as well. For good reason. The last time Geralt had even spoken to the boy was more than twenty years ago. And up until now he thought he was dead, much like the rest of his companions. Not many survived the attack on Kaer Morhen those years ago.

Despite the long years of absence, Geralt still remembered him clearly. Jason was one of the younger Witchers, like Lambert. And he had great skill. Geralt would watch him train at times. He was very fast, even for a Witcher. Geralt even sparred with the young Witcher once. Jason's speed surprised him greatly, but in the end experience and finesse triumphed. Vesemir always saw the boy as a skilled candidate as well.

They continued down the elongated hallway, silently, until finally the young Witcher decided to break the silence between them.

" The girl" Jason started. " Your surprise?"

" My destiny" Geralt corrected.

" Eskel tells me she has… Extraordinary abilities"

" He speaks the truth" Geralt confirmed. " Ciri is an extraordinary girl"

" She must be" Jason said. " Not just any girl can be the white wolf's destiny"

" Ciri was special long before she met me"

" I've heard the story" Jason said. " It was always destined"

" Not always" Geralt said. He briefly thought back on that day. The day he saved the prince Dunny, in turn allowing him to pursue his love with the princess Pavetta. With gratitude, they offered him anything. And Geralt, not wanting much, called upon the famed law of surprise. At the time, he thought it was a mistake. But looking back upon it now. It was the best decision he had ever made.

" Always" the young Witcher repeated once again.

" And you?" Geralt asked, changing the subject of conversation. " You've been away for along time. You haven't even wintered here. What's been keeping you?"

Jason did not answer initially, and he seemed to be searching somewhere in his mind for a plausible answer. After a while, he finally found one.

" Regular Witchers work" he said.

Geralt did not reply. And after a long a dreadful moment of silence the young Witcher spoke again.

" It's true isn't it?"

" What is?" Geralt raised his eyebrows in confusion.

" I did not believe Eskel when he first told me" Jason continued after a brief moment. " I thought it a jest..but now that I'm here…"

Geralt instantly knew of what he spoke of, and just thinking about it made him close his eyes tightly.

" …Its true"

The young Witcher turned away from Geralt. Both his hands were clenched tightly. And he did not speak for a long while. Geralt did not try to speak to him either. He needed his time.

" Damn" Jason finally cursed, although not too loudly. " I never thought the day would come. I thought surely the old man would outlive all of us"

Geralt stood silent.

" I should have returned long ago" Jason continued. His voice had different tone to it now.

" You couldn't have prevented his death" Geralt looked at his comrade. " None of us could"

" I know that" Jason shook his head. " But now I'll never get the chance to see him again…dammit!"

The combination of sadness and anger in his voice were apparent. And the way his eyes and mouth clenched tightly together gave further indication of his emotion. Geralt had never seen him like this before.

" He died for a better reason than most" Geralt tried to assure him, although it did not seem to be working.

" Is there ever a good reason to die?"

" Protecting the people you care about…"

" You mean the person"

Geralt did not say word in response. He knew exactly what Jason was referring to. And even though it angered him. He could blame the young Witcher entirely. Jason was angry at the news of Vesemirs death. Nothing would change that.

The rest of the walk was filled only with the sound of wind and ice, and the creaking of old stone walls and windows. Once they had reached the room in which the young Witcher would sleep, the silence was broken once again.

" Geralt" Jason spoke to him in a calm tone. " Forgive me brother…I did not wish to offend…I do not blame her for what happened to Vesemir"

" You don't have to apologize" Geralt responded in a similar tone.

" I only wanted clarify…"

" I know" Geralt interrupted. " I understand"

" Good" Jason nodded and smiled. " It feels good to be back here"

" It's good to have you home again"


	2. Chapter 2

The morning came like a sharp dagger. Quick, cold, and penetrating. The warmth of the old fortress had been reduced greatly. The hearths and fireplaces no longer burned, and the chilling weather from the outside seemed to find its way through the cracks and opening of the castle walls.

Ciri cursed, watching as the breath flowing from her mouth turned to pale steam. Under the sheets, she could feel the coldness deep in her body. Her toes and fingers felt the worst, as if the cold gripped them tightly and did not allow them to move. She rubbed them together, in an attempt to warm them, but it was futile. The cold would not let go so easily.

Realizing that now that she was awake, and aware, the cold would not allow her to sleep, Ciri decided it was time to get out of bed. She removed the sheets covering her body, and ignoring her shivering body proceeded to dress herself. She took one moment to glance outside the glass door leading to the balcony, and sighed. It would've been a lovely day to refine her skills, if only the heavy snow were to melt.

She stretched her arms, legs, and every other part of her body that could be stretched. Then, she yawned, multiple times, and rubbed the weariness from her eyes. Once her body was more fully awake and energized, she headed for the door.

She exited the cold and lonely room, making her way across the hall and down onto the stairs leading to the lower level. Once she descended from the stairs, she entered the large main hall of Kaer Morhen, where she could already see a few of her friends sitting close to the low burning hearth.

She saw Yennefer, twirling her black curls in between her fingers. There was Triss, her and hands entwined on her lap and her beautiful chestnut hair shining against the fire. Keira sat next to them as well, her short blonde hair reflecting the light emanating from the hearth, and her arms crossed across her body. Ciri did not see any of the men, so she figured they were still asleep, and therefore decided to join the sorceresses.

"Ciri" Yennefer was the first to greet her, smiling at her and watching her with those cold violet eyes. "Finally awake I see. Sleep well?"

"Yes" Ciri confirmed with a slight laugh, returning the sorceresses smile. "If only a little cold"

"You're not the only one" Keira said, rubbing her hands along her body and arms.

"Lambert couldn't keep you warm?" Yennefer smirked at the blonde haired sorceress.

"If only" Keira replied with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Lambert isn't much of cuddle bunny"

"I figured" Yennefer said. "Fortunately, Geralt can be quite the opposite most of the time"

Ciri smiled, unlike Triss who turned her head away from the sorceresses, hiding her face from their sight. She usually did that when Yennefer spoke of Geralt, and especially when Ciri was around. Ciri did not comment on it, as usual.

"Speaking of Geralt" Ciri said in wonder. "Where are the Witchers? Still fast asleep?"

"Asleep? No" Yennefer answered. "Geralt and the other Witchers are outside"

"Outside?" Ciri questioned. "For what?"

"What else would they be doing? Training of course"

"But isn't it…"

"Snowy" Yennefer finished for her. "It is. But you know them. They couldn't stand just sitting here, took it upon themselves to clear the snow and train"

"Ha!" Keira laughed loudly. "Witchers are strange creatures, are they not? Instead of sitting here in the warmth with three…sorry, four beautiful women, they choose to clash swords with one another in the cold. As if they don't do it enough already"

"You're definitely right about that" Yennefer agreed, resulting in laughter from the four women sitting in the main hall. "There's simply some things you can't change about them"

"Unfortunately" Keira nodded.

"It's not so bad" Ciri defended the men, garnering the narrow eyes of the three other sorceresses. "I quite enjoy training myself so I can't blame them"

"Of course you would feel that way, Ciri" Triss said. "Geralt and the other Witchers practically raised you here at Kaer Morhen. You were bound to pick up their habits"

"I suppose that's why" Ciri laughed.

"Yes" Yennefer added. "But fortunately you were here Triss. Otherwise Ciri would never have learned to be a woman, at least not until Geralt sent her to the temple of meliteli"

" Right" Keira agreed. "Because we all know how preciously little these Witchers about women"

The women all laughed once again, including Ciri. But despite the laughter and cheeriness of the women, Ciri could not keep her eyes from the large double doors guarding the entrance of Kaer Morhen. Her hands and legs were itching for some training, and she wouldn't get any in here.

"If you're really that desperate than just go" Yennefer urged, noticing the look on Ciri's face. "I'm sure Geralt and the others wouldn't mind your company"

"Go on, Cirilla" Keira urged as well, smiling at the young woman. "There's no sense in remaining here and boring yourself to death"

" It's not that" Ciri refuted.

"Well whatever it is" Yennefer said. "It's clear your anxious to go out there. So just go"

Ciri sighed, looking at the smiling faces of the three sorceresses sitting by the fire. She enjoyed their company, she really did. But to her, nothing could ever be above Geralt, and the times they would train together. So she bid the women farewell, and then as quickly as she could made her way through the doors guarding the entrance of Kaer Morhen.

Immediately she felt the stinging winter coldness, and felt the crunch of the snow cracking beneath her boots. The sky was clear and blue, and the sun shone like a giant yellow gem. Ice no longer fell from the sky, and the harrowing winds from the night before had ceased to ravage the old fortress.

She could not see the Witchers yet, but she could already hear the sound of metal clanging against metal. She made her way towards the sound, walking down the multiple sets of steps until she came upon the large clearing that was the courtyard.

The four Witchers were there, already engaged in a round of raining. Ciri hurried, hoping down the last set of steps and onto the main courtyard. She stood next to Geralt, who currently had his eyes focused on the training session occurring right in front of him. Jason, the new Witcher that Ciri had never seen before stood next to him, watching the spectacle as well.

Eskel and Lambert moved almost faster than Ciri's eyes could see, the steel from their swords crashing against one another like battering rams. When one struck, the other would parry, and it seemed as though neither man had the advantage in the fight. The two Witchers were as evenly matched as could be, and after a few more seconds of clinging steel the two ended their session in a draw. It was a good match, but Ciri had seen better.

" Even match" Geralt said to the two men as they sheathed their swords across the scabbards on their backs. " Not surprised"

" You think you could've done better, wolf?" Eskel snared at Geralt, adjusting his armor to a more comfortable position.

" We could test that out" Lambert grinned. " I'd be happily obliged to take on the white wolf"

" C'mon boys" Geralt said with a smile, shaking his head. " I didn't mean in that way"

" And even if he did" Jason, the Witcher that Ciri hardly knew anything about joined the conversation, looking at lambert and Eskel. " You two have had your fun. If anyone gets to fight Gwynnbleid…its me"

" The white wolf versus the young wolf" Lambert announced, grinning with excitement. " My bets are on the white one. Experience over youth"

" Mine as well" Ciri agreed, smiling at Geralt as they gazed at one another. She had never seen the young Witcher fight before, but Ciri was certain that Geralt she was the best swordsman she knew. " I'd bet on Geralt against any of you"

" Let's not push things" Lambert frowned.

" Agreed" Eskel nodded, then glanced at over at the young dark haired Witcher standing next to Geralt. " I'll be the odd one this time. My bets are on you, Jason"

" Really?" Lambert looked surprised. " And I thought you and Geralt were old friends"

" Very old friends" Geralt said, walking to the large open courtyard while pulling the sword from his scabbard. " Let's hurry and do this. My ears are getting cold and numb"

" As are mine" Jason said, then too pulled the sword from his scabbard, standing in front of Geralt.

Their eyes were narrow and focused, and their bodies were tense and ready. They breathed, calmly and controlled, the icy breath flowing from their mouths.

They came at one another with blinding speed. Geralt was the first to attack, sending a barrage of blows to the young Witchers torso and legs with incredible speed. But Jason proved to be quick as well, and reacted to each and every one of Geralt's blows with a parry. Geralt swung another hard and forceful blow, this time high above the young Witchers torso. Jason reacted once again, and this time stepped back away from the blow, and executed a quick thrust counter to Geralt's stomach. It was parried away, and with his shoulder Geralt pushed the young Witcher back, failing to take him off balance.

They stepped away from each other for only a brief moment, taking the slightest breather they could. Then, without much warning they pounced on each other once again.

Swords swung and clashed like a blacksmiths hammer, except much faster and with much more intensity than any blacksmith could ever muster. The two Witchers moved with so much grace and fluidity, and it seemed as though they were fighting to a rhythm. Like the previous fight, neither Witcher could get the best of each other. Every blow was either parried or dodged, and neither could execute a riposte quick enough to catch the other.

They fought for only a short while longer, after which the two Witchers shook hands and congratulated each other for yet another even fight. Lambert and Eskel scoffed at them initially, but were then quickly reminded by Ciri that they had done the same just moments ago, causing them to frown and giving Jason and Geralt a good laugh. Afterwards they all smiled and laughed.

" I say it's high time we retreated back to the keep" Geralt urged, sliding his steel sword back into its scabbard. " I could use some food"

" Maybe the sorceresses cooked something up for us?" Eskel said with just a small dash hope in his eyes.

Before responding, Ciri glanced at Geralt, who in turn glanced at Lambert, all of them with wide and disbelieving eyes. Even Jason looked puzzled.

" You must not know sorceresses very well" Lambert remarked.

" He's right" Geralt agreed. " In all the years I've known Yennefer I don't think I've ever seen her cook anything"

" Ha!" Eskel laughed. " What good is she for then?"

" Women" Ciri growled and glared at the Witcher, garnering the looks of all the men standing around her. " Are not only meant for cooking"

" Of course. My apologies, princess" Eskel grinned.

" Empress" Lambert corrected with his usual mocking tone.

" Very funny, you two" Ciri narrowed her eyes at the men.

" That's enough, all of you" Geralt interrupted. " Let us return to the keep. I've had enough of this cold"

Ciri, Eskel, and Lambert gave each other sly smiles, and then began to follow the urges of the white haired Witcher. They all retreated back to the keep, where they were greeted by the three lovely sorceresses already inside. It did not take long for the banter to start once again, and as a result of the hunger lingering inside their stomachs, Eskel decided to prepare food. Not that he had much choice in matter. Ciri was aware of the Witcher's odd dinner schedule. If one cooked something up today, then the other would do so the next day, and so on. And today happened to be Eskel's turn.

Now Ciri knew where his false hopelessness had come from. He looked downright miserable at the thought of cooking.

…

Condwiramurs Tilly awoke from her sleep, shivering from a frosty cold under her sheets. Her teeth were clattering like a woodpecker, and her toes were frozen stiff. She quickly removed the sheets from atop of her, and clothes herself in warm clothing, then made her way up the stairs of he tower.

She entered Nimues room without the slightest attempt at discreetness, waking the tiny sorceress from her sleep as well. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her eyes made great effort to adjust. Nimue looked at Condwiramurs with annoyance and tiredness. But Condwiramurs knew that would all change when the she learned the reason for the late night disturbance.

" Condwiramurs?" Nimue asked with an exceedingly tired voice. " Why have you awoken me? At this hour?"

" You will not believe what I am about to tell you, Nimue" Condwiramurs said with excitement, jumping on the bed alongside the tiny sorceress. " But you must…"

" Speak already" Nimue interrupted her. " And be quick, please"

" I dreamed last night"

" You always dream, Condwiramurs…you're an oneiromancer"

" Yes. But last night I dreamed of a very particular subject" Condwiramurs explained. " A subject that interests you more than anything"

" Do you mean…"

" Precisely" Condwiramurs finished for her. " I dreamt of our dear Ciri"

" What did you dream?" Nimue's interested peaked at the sound of Ciri's name. " Tell me, please"

" I dreamt of her" Condwiramurs began, recalling the content of her dream. " And the Witcher, Geralt was there as well"

Nimue gazed at her curiously, anxiously waiting for Condwiramurs to continue.

" They were at a castle" she continued. " Kaer Morhen, the Witchers keep I believe. There were others too, Witchers I presume, but I do not know who they are"

" And?"

" The Witchers were fighting one another" Condwiramurs said. " Training maybe? And Ciri watched them, then she spoke to them. She seemed…happy"

" Is that all?" Nimue asked.

" So far, yes" Condwiramurs said. " But I believe there is more to this dream. I get feeling that this dream was just the beginning"

" Then you must sleep" Nimue urged her. " And try to dream of her once more"

" I will" Condwiramurs confirmed. " I will Nimue. You can be sure of that"

That night, when Condwiramurs returned to her bed and to sleep, the only though on her mind was that of Ciri. She laid there for a long time, pondering, and trying her hardest to fall asleep. When she finally did fall asleep, she dreamed. Only she did not dream of Ciri.

 **...**

Jason sat at the edge of his bed, holding his silver sword in his hands. He looked over the blade, sliding his hand along the edges slowly. The sword itself was the usual shiny silver, and the metal edge of the blade was covered in red glowing runes. The hilt of the sword was a leathery black, and the pommel was in the form of a wolf's head, much like his medallion. This sword had saved his life many times, but today, it hurt him more than anything.

He remembered back when he first laid eyes upon the sword, years ago when he was first deemed worthy of being a Witcher. Vesemir gave him the sword, just after he completed his training and the mutations. To this day, it was the best thing anyone had ever given him, and the object which he treasured the most, even more than his steel sword. After all, Witchers were monster slayers, not slayers of men.

The silver blade was in fact Jason's most treasured possession, but looking at it now he wanted nothing more than to make it disappear and never see it again. The sword reminded him too much of Vesemir, and of all his Witcher brothers which he would never see again. It had been such a long time since Jason had ever been back at Kaer Morhen, and therefore he hadn't seen Vesemir or any of his brothers in a long time, but he swore he could the old mans reflection on the sword. He closed his eyes tightly, taking a breath to calm his beating heart.

When he opened them again, the reflection was gone and his heart was calm. But the thought of Vesemir remained etched deep into his mind. Jason did not believe in any of the gods, but that night, he gave a silent prayer to each and every one he knew. He simply asked them for a favor. A favor that no one else but a god would be able to grant.

He only wanted one thing, and would give almost anything for that one thing. He asked them, Melitele, Freya, and every other god he could think of. He asked to see him once more, even if it was only for the briefest of moments. Then he went to sleep, hopeless.

He didn't believe in any gods.


	3. Chapter 3

It was late February now, and the snows that had once covered the entirety of the old fortress had all but completely melted away. The valleys and gorges surrounding Kaer Morhen were now green and lush once again, and the rivers no longer frozen into ice now flowed calmly between the ravines and mountains. The air outside was much warmer now, and the sky clear from the usual dark grey clouds that accompanied the long winter months. Spring was nearing quickly. The thought of that made the Witchers very excited.

Jason himself was indeed very excited for the approaching spring, mainly because he was anxious to finally leave Kaer Morhen and continue the path. Kaer Morhen was his only home, certainly, but the memories that came with the old fortress were too much for him to bare. He needed something to take his mind off of things, something to keep him busy and distracted while the painful memories removed themselves from his brain. And he knew that the only way to keep a Witcher busy was by doing Witcher work. Therefore, he could not wait to roam the world once again, looking for monsters to slay. The third war with Nilfgaard had only just ended not too long ago, there were sure to be plenty of monsters ripe for the killing.

The young Witcher sat on the large stone wall surrounding the fortress, his eyes peering off into the wild abyss that surround the entirety of Kaer Morhen. The view from the fortress walls had always managed to astonish the Witcher, from the times when he was just a boy until even now. The view was straight from seemed to be straight from a painting; beautiful mountains covered with trees and snow, low cut valleys and gorges for clear water rivers to flow through, and low hanging clouds that made it all the more spectacular. Jason figured that if he ever did retire from killing monsters, Kaer Morhen would be his permanent home. But that was many years away from now.

There was a slight breeze blowing through area, causing both the trees and Jason's long curly hair to wave back and forth like grass. He sighed, taking his last glance at the sight in front of him before jumping from the wall down to the solid ground. He arranged his scabbards and his leather jacket to a more comfortable position, after which he made his way from the courtyard up to the small yard just before the Kaer Morhen entrance. Already there was Geralt, and the strange ashen haired girl he called his destiny. Jason had already stayed in Kaer Morhen for a few weeks, but he had yet to ever speak to the strange girl. There was something about her that made Jason cringe every time he saw her. An aura perhaps, or maybe something different, he wasn't quite sure what it was.

The two stood in front of one another. Geralt, it seemed, was giving the girl instructions, because he spoke and moved his hands as if telling her what to do. The girl listened carefully and quietly, yet at the same time Jason noticed her breathing heavily, and she was slightly sweating as if she had just ran ten circles around the whole fortress. Jason stopped just in front of them, and leaned against some old wooden barrels, and without saying a word watched the two curiously.

" I've told you this plenty of times, Ciri" Geralt said, attempting to instruct the girl on some unknown matter. " Speed is the key. Not strength, you're not a lumberjack cutting trees, you're a Witcher…"

" I know this Geralt!" the girl exclaimed in a foul tone, interrupting Geralt as he spoke. " I don't need you to tell me again"

" If you know then why do you ignore it?" Geralt asked.

" Because you're to good!" She answered angrily. " And too fast. I'll never be able to hit you"

" There are ways to counteract that, Ciri, you know this" Geralt explained, trying his best to inform the girl. " Remember what we taught you here, all those years ago"

" I do"

" If your opponent is stronger than you. Faster. Better. What can do you do to overcome him? Think, Ciri?

Ciri closed her eyes for a brief moment, presumably to look for those memories buried deep inside her brain. Jason watched her, wondering himself what Geralt and the other Witchers taught all those years ago.

" Aha!" Ciri finally shouted after a moment, much excitement in her voice. " A faint! A faint can confuse your opponent! Throw him off balance!"

" Giving you the perfect opportunity to strike" Geralt finished for her, a wide smile set upon his overly pale face. Jason smiled as well, seeing as the same exact words ran across his mind. Perhaps they did teach the girl well.

" Now I'm ready!" Ciri practically jumped with anticipation, twirling her sword in her hand. It was a beautiful blade no doubt, if only a little too small.

" Alright, Ciri" Geralt twirled his own blade. " Again"

The two came at each other like a pair of vipers, striking so fast and so true that the gods themselves would be in envy. If there were any. The girl was in fact much better if than Jason had originally anticipated, and moved fluidly enough to at least keep up with Geralt. Although from what Jason knew, Geralt was much better than what he currently displayed.

Ciri through a trio a blows down to Geralt's legs, all of which were parried away with ease. Then in a display of quickness and agility, she executed a half pirouette, and swiftly swung her blade high to Geralt's torso. For any other man, the move would've meant trouble, but for Geralt it proved to be yet another swing to slow. He parried the blow with ease, and swiftly stepped forward while executing a quick thrust. Ciri, not being quick enough to recover from the pirouette in time to defend against the thrust, could only stumble back away from Geralt.

" Get up" Geralt urged, staying in his usual fighting stance. " Quickly now"

Ciri did not hesitate to follow the Witchers instructions, and rose to her feet and balance quickly.

" Now attack!" Geralt ordered. " And use your feints!"

" I will!" She lunged.

" Parry! Good! Thrust! Good! Feint! Pirouette! Too slow! Now back away! Quickly! The fight has changed and you're on the defense!"

" Not so fast, Geralt!"

" You're opponent won't slow down just because you ask him to! Defend!"

" But I won't be fighting a Witcher!"

" Defend!"

Jason watched them with a smile on his face. Geralt sure did now how to teach. Not quite like Vesemir but close.

" Half pirouette, Ciri! Beautiful! Now jump back quickly! Good! Reverse! Counter! Excellent! Parry! Again! Again! Now jump away! Good! Counter thrust! Too slow! Recover!"

The girl was struggling to keep the pace, but she did not falter against the immense pressure from Geralt. Jason certainly was impressed.

" Parry, Ciri! Quick parries! And move! Nicely done! Now counter! Look for the opportunities, Ciri! You have to look for them!"

Jason could see quite a few opportunities. Mainly because Geralt had reduced the speed of his thrusts and pirouettes to give the girl time to counter. Jason thought about calling them out, but figured it best not to.

" Dodge! Now parry! Parry! Spin! Reverse! Half spin! Reverse again! Counter! Whoah! Good feint! Nicely done, Ciri!"

" You still partied my blow with ease" Ciri snarled, taking the time to catch her breath.

" It wasn't with ease" Geralt assured her. " But yes. I did parry it"

" So then what does it matter!"

" It matters because you took advantage of the opportunity" Geralt said. " Without me telling you. You saw the opportunity, and used your feint. That in turn gave you the perfect chance to counter"

" But…"

" You shouldn't get discouraged just because I parried the blow, Ciri. I'm a Witcher. I see things much quicker than most men. If that was anyone else, their guts would be spilled across the floor right now. You did good"

Ciri as it seemed could not stay angry for long, because she now looked at Geralt with a smile across her face.

" That feint and counter were impressive" Geralt complimented the girl.

" I would hope" Ciri said. " Coen taught me those"

 _Coen,_ Jason said to himself. He had always been close friends with him, but it had been such a long time since he last saw him.

" Coen?" Geralt raised his eyebrows, then gave a quick and somewhat awkward glance at Jason. Ciri, then did the same, causing Jason to become even more confused than he already was.

" Yes" Ciri confirmed, turning away from Jason. " A long time ago"

" Good of you to remember them" Geralt too turned away from his comrade. " They'll be useful"

" Mhm. So what's next, Geralt? Shall we go to the pendulum? I always hated that thing"

" No" Geralt shook his head. " The pendulum is no use to you anymore. You've grown past that"

" Then what?" Ciri impatiently questioned the white haired Witcher. " You said you'd train me hard today, just like the old days. We can't be done now"

" You're right, we're not. Stop complaining, otherwise I'll let Lambert train you instead. But for now I have something different in mind"

" Do tell"

" Today" Geralt said with a smile. " I'm going to show you how to make bombs, and how to properly use them"

" Really?"

" Yes. Now follow me, Ciri. You have much to learn"

Jason gave Geralt a smile and a nod, signaling that he would not be joining the two in their endeavor. Instead, he began to make his way to the entrance of the old fortress. He had awoken very early today, and had not eaten since very early the day before. His stomach now growled with hunger, and his mouth began savoring for anything. But as he entered through the large doors guarding the entrance, he could only put his head down in dismay.

Today was Lamberts turn to cook. And the only thing Lambert knew how to cook was noodles. Unfortunately, he didn't even cook them well.

…

" Damn, Lambert" Jason cursed as he forcefully swallowed the noodle strands from his bowl. " Your noodles taste like shit. Couldn't you make anything else? Or at least prepare them well?"

" I'm sorry, Jason" Lambert retorted with an ugly grimace. " I didn't realize I was your chef"

" I'm only speaking the truth here" Jason said, garnering a smile from Eskel. " You could stand to learn a few things"

" I didn't realize you were such an amazing cooker" Lambert mocked. " Perhaps you can teach me then"

" If only" Jason said. " We need someone who can really make something tasteful around here. I'm tired of eating dry noodles and hard bread"

" I agree" Eskel nodded, pushing his bowl of noodles to the side. " But that will have to wait until next winter"

" Why is that?" Jason asked.

" Because we're leaving that's why" Lambert answered, a smile hanging across his face. " Spring is here, brother. It's time we got back on the path"

" Spring is still a few days away" Jason said.

" True" Eskel confirmed. " But what difference do a few days make. The snow has already melted and the air is no longer freezing. Better to head out now, start early"

" I suppose" Jason said. " And what of the others? Are they leaving as well?"

" They will" Eskel replied. " By tomorrow morning this place will be empty. Except for Triss, I hear she plans to stay a few more days before leaving to Kovir"

" Really?" Jason's eyes widened and in his face a small hint of hope and pleasure appeared.

" If only" Lamber crushed the hope immediately and without any remorse. " Triss has eyes for one man. Unfortunately for her"

" Yes" Eskel said. " So you might want to get that idea out of your head"

" Pity" Jason sighed. " But oh well. What can be done? Nothing. So, where are you two headed then?"

" I'm heading south" Eskel said. " To Nazair, and Mettina perhaps. I've heard the south is a very profitable place for a Witcher"

" So have I" Lambert nodded. " I'll head to Vizima with Keira first, then I'm sure to head that way eventually"

" A reunion then" Eskel smiled, then turned his attention to Jason. " And what about you? Any plans on where to go?"

" Not yet" Jason answered with uncertainty. " The south does sound very enticing, but I've a few places here in the North already pecked"

" At least we don't have to worry about the war anymore" Eskel said.

" Only the Nilfgaardians now" Lambert said.

" What difference does it make who rules?" Jason asked. " It's all the same to us anyhow"

" At the very least the emperor won't try to kill us because we're mutants" Eskel added. " If Radovid were to have won the war. We would have a real problem on our hands"

" That's right" Jason completely agreed. He had seen the deeds of King Radovid along his travels. " Once he finished with the mages and non humans he would surely come for us"

" He probably wouldn't even notice us" Lambert said. " We're too few as it is"

" Unless your name was Geralt" Eskel said.

" Hmph" Jason gave off a quiet laugh. " Gwynnbleid does seem to go out of his way to be noticed doesn't he?"

" He's too soft hearted" Lambert grinned. " Wants to help everyone in need. Neutrality, apparently, does not exist in Geralt's mind"

" That's what got him killed in the first place" Eskel said. " He told us so"

" What?"

" He tried to help some non humans in Rivia. Apparently a crowd of peasants grew angry and attacked the non humans. Geralt, being who he is, tried to help. He ended up with a pitchfork to the stomach"

" You think he would've learned from that experience" Lambert said.

" It's hard to change ones morales" Jason responded. " But Gwynnbleid should have known better than to stand up for the non humans. Even a Witcher can't go against a whole crowd of armed peasants"

" Exactly why it's always best to remain neutral in those situations" Lambert said with conviction.

" I agree" Eskel said. " I don't like the killing of non humans, but I'm not losing my head over them"

Before the three Witchers could continue this discussion any further, the doors of Kaer Morhen swung open as if a gust of wind had blown. From the outside, laughing and smiling, Geralt and Cirilla walked in, their clothes dirty with all different kinds of stains.

" Ah, Geralt!" Lambert greeted the white haired Witcher as he entered. " We were just speaking about how much of a hero you are in our eyes"

" Lambert?" Geralt raised his eyebrows. " What are you going on about?"

" Nothing, Geralt" Eskel said before Lambert could muster any of his usual remarks. " He's going on about nothing"

…

Geralt carefully washed the muck and dirt from his skin, enjoying the tub of heated water Yennefer had prepared especially for him. While he bathed, Yennefer engaged in her usual routine which consisted of applying makeup to her face in front of a mirror. Geralt, naturally, had no interest in watching Yennefer apply her makeup, so instead he focused his thoughts on his upcoming departure.

" So where will you and Ciri go?" Yennefer asked before Geralt could even think, her smile reflecting against the shiny mirror in front of her.

He hated when she read his thoughts, but this time decided that an argument was not worth it.

" We'll head for Novigrad" Geralt said. " Visit Dandellion and Zoltan. After that who knows"

" You can bring her to Vizima" Yennefer said, yet oddly more like a question than a suggestion.

" Why would I do that?" Geralt turned his head away from the sorceress.

" So that I can see her" Yennefer answered him, removing herself from in front of the mirror and taking a seat next to the tub. " And you"

" I can't read your mind, Yennefer" Geralt frowned. " Not like you can read mine. But I know when you're hiding something"

" I'm not"

" Yen…"

" Do you not trust me, Geralt? After all these years"

The look on Yennefer's face told Geralt all he needed to know.

" I trust you" Geralt clenched his teeth, . " But I don't trust them"

" Who's them?"

" You know who I'm talking about, Yen" Geralt said. " I know the Lodge still wants Ciri, as does Emhyr. But Ciri has already made her choice, and I can assure you it does not include either of them"

" Geralt…"

" No Yen" Geralt shook his head, stopping the black haired sorceress from speaking any further. " I'm not taking Ciri to Vizima. Please don't ask me to"

" Ciri is destined for great things, Geralt" Yennefer said. " Killing monsters out in the wild are not befit for someone like her"

" That's for her to decide" Geralt replied. " And she already has. I do not wish to speak of this any further"

" I'll leave it, for now" Yennefer rose from the ground, making her way back to the chair in front of the mirror. " But Ciri deserves better, Geralt. I know that. And so do you"

…

The morning came much quicker than expected, and Jason had already gotten out his bed and made his way outside the castle. He woke up later than expected it seemed, because everyone else was already saying their goodbyes, and some were already gone. Lambert and Keira were nowhere to be found.

He approached Geralt and Eskel, seeing as the two Witchers were already engaged in a conversation.

" You'll take her to Novigrad, then?" Eskel asked his white haired comrade, gazing at the ashen haired girl who was currently speaking to Triss and Yennefer.

" I will" Geralt answered. " And you? Where will you go, Eskel? You can come with us if you'd like"

" Enticing offer, wolf" Eskel smiled. " But I'm going to have to refuse. I'm heading to the south, more money to be made there"

" I see" Geralt said, then the two Witchers gave each other a very quick hug. " Good luck on the path, Eskel. We'll see each other again in a few months"

" Good luck, Geralt" Eskel said. " And you, Jason"

Jason nodded and smiled at his comrade, biding him farewell on the path. Then, his eyes turned to the white haired Witcher standing before him.

" Novigrad?" Jason asked, eyeing his comrade.

" Yes" Geralt confirmed. " We have a few friends there we'd like to see"

" Very well"

" What about you? Any plans?"

" Not really" Jason admitted with a smile. " A few things to take care of in the North. Might go south after that"

" If you're traveling anywhere near Novigrad, you can join me and Ciri"

" I don't know, Gwynbleidd" Jason said with uncertainty.

" She won't mind" Geralt assured him. " And if you're worried about Yennefer, don't be. She won't be coming with us"

" I think I'll take your offer then" Jason said after a while. " At least until Novigrad"

" Then it's settled" Geralt nodded. " Give me time to say goodbye, then we'll be on our way"

" Of course" Jason said. " Take your time"


	4. Chapter 4

The free city of Novigrad proved to be far less flattering than it was widely made out to be. Until now, Jason had never once set a foot in the free city, but like the vast majority of northern folk, the Witcher had heard many tales about the great city. In person however, the popular city left much to be desired, even for the relatively low standards of a simple Witcher.

The many cobblestone streets extending across the vast city were crowded with loud pedestrians and smelled like both burned and uncooked meat. In addition to the loud pedestrians, the clinging sound of both blacksmiths and weapon smiths rang throughout the city, and the haggling between merchants and customer seemed to be at an all-time high. Jason had clearly never been to a city such as Novigrad before, and he was starting to believe that maybe it was a good thing. The city was far too crowded and restless for his liking. This many agitated humans could at many times mean trouble for non-humans, and Witchers.

The Witcher peacefully made his way through the crowded streets, ignoring the sneers and quiet insults coming from a few of the onlookers dotting the streets. Jason, as usual, ignored the sneers and insults, uttering a response only in the confinement of his mind. He had no intention of starting a fight with anyone, and he was even less interested in killing. He would only remain in Novigrad for a short time, and the Witcher preferred for it to go peacefully.

After a short yet unwanted trek through the city streets, Jason found his way back to The Chameleon, the tavern belonging to one of Geralt's dearest friends. The bard Dandelion, which Jason had heard plenty of but only met a few days prior to now proved to be a strange choice of a friend for the white haired Witcher. He differed greatly from Eskel, who Jason had always believed to be Geralts closest friend. The bard was, to put it frankly, very talkative, cocky, arrogant, and equally if not more so annoying. In only the few days that Jason knew him he couldn't recall the number of times he felt a burning desire to glue the poets lips together in an effort to stop him from talking, or to outright punch him across the face. But it seemed that Geralt tolerated, and even enjoyed the bards company, therefore Jason found it best to keep his raging desires quelled. He did however, find himself clenching his teeth and balling his fists quite often when around the poet.

Jason entered through the front door of the tavern, responding to the calls of the courtesans with only a half-smile and a shake of his head. If there was one good thing that could be said about the bard Dandelion, it surely was his knowledge of attractive women. Jason found it quite the challenge not to accept their offers.

Once he was inside the tavern, Jason immediately made his way to one of the empty tables near the corner of the crowded establishment. Once seated, he pulled a piece of crumbled paper from one of his pockets, extending it across the table with his hands. Strewn across the paper in ink were the full details of a contract, but unlike most contracts Jason had read before, this was strangely written in the elder dialect. It was unusual not only because most humans did not know the elder speech, but the ones who did know it did not know it that well, and whomever issued the contract seemed to know the elder speech quite well, almost as if it was their native tongue. That meant that either a member of the elder races issued the contract, which would be unusual in itself considering that Jason had never once before taken a contract issued by one, or that someone in the city had devoted many years of their life to study the elder speech almost to the point of perfection. Either way, the Witcher found himself intrigued by the contract, and therefore decided he would investigate it further.

Jason knew the elder speech well, and so he began to read the content written on the contract, blocking out the excess noise from the crowded tavern.

 _Witcher, we of the forest are in dire need of your assistance,_

 _For there is a vile creature which prowls our woods through_

 _The night. The monster has already killed two of our own, and_

 _We fear it will continue to do so. If you are willing to help, meet us_

 _Near the lone lighthouse to the west of the city at midnight. We will_

 _Await your arrival for only a few days. Come quickly._

 _Vague,_ thought Jason as he concluded reading the contract, although in his experience most contracts were just as vague. The majority of people who issued a contract never had as much as one look at the monster they wanted dead, and the others were in too much shock to remember any specifics. If Jason was going to learn more about this 'vile creature', he would have to speak to whomever it was that issued the contract.

"Jason?"

A voice greeted the Witcher from afar, tearing his focus away from the crumbled contract. Judging by the raspy tone of the voice and the lack of enthusiasm, Jason knew perfectly well who it was without even looking at him.

"Caedmil, Geralt" Jason greeted, turning to face the white haired witcher who approached alongside the dwarf known as Zoltan Chivay. "Caedmil, master dwarf", Jason greeted the stocky bearded dwarf as well.

Zoltan was another one of Geralt's companions who Jason had recently met. Unlike one of the others however, Zoltan Chivay proved to be far more tolerable and enjoyable. Typical of a dwarf, Zoltan spoke with the usual dwarven bravado, but in a way that was both entertaining and wise. In the few days that he knew him Jason had come to like the dwarf.

"Already working on a contract?" Geralt asked as he sat opposite of Jason, looking down at the crumbled piece of paper.

"Figured I'd take some" Jason answered, nodding his head in confirmation. "Going to need some coin for the road"

"Leaving so soon, eh Witcher?" Zoltan asked, himself turning an eye to the contract. "Where will you go?"

"Somewhere far from here" Jason sighed. "Probably south. Tell me master, Dwarf, since you are in fact a…Dwarf. How does Mahakam fare in the monster department? Any coin to be made for a Witcher there?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, lad" the Dwarf shook his head and grinned. "But the truth is that most monsters seem to be smarter than you humans think they are"

"What are you saying, Zoltan?" Geralt faced the dwarf. "That monsters are more afraid of Dwarves than Witchers?"

"I don't want to insult you, old friend" Zoltan smiled. "You Witchers are good with a blade, true, but if a ghoul saw a dwarf he'd know he was about to get a right good smacking"

"Hmm. Quite true, master Dwarf" Jason laughed.

"Certainly" Zoltan agreed. "But as I said. There won't be much work for you in Mahakam. Although you will see some old pals of me and Geralt"

"More Dwarves I assume?"

"It is Mahakam" Zoltan confirmed.

"He's not going to Mahakam" Geralt said, grabbing the crumbled piece of paper in his hands. "This contract, what's It for?"

"Don't know" Jason said. "Found it on one of the notice boards in the market square. Notice anything strange about it?"

"Aside from the fact that's in elder speech. No"

"Read it"

"I have"

"Then I'll ask you again if there's anything strange about it"

Geralt waited for a while before responding, taking his time to fully examine the contract.

"We of the forest?" Geralt curiously asked. "Who could that be?"

"Elves perhaps? Scoiatel?" Jason asked. "Only fitting answer I can think of"

"Could be why they wrote it in elder speech" Geralt nodded. "If anyone but a Witcher were to get his hands on this they would need to know the elder speech to read it"

"Therefore effectively concealing their location"

"Scoiatel hiring a Witcher?" Zoltan raised his bushy eyebrows. "Pardon me, lads, but that doesn't seem like something the squirrels would do"

"I agree" Geralt said. "The Scoiatel hate Humans, Witchers included"

"Something about this contract does not seem right, eh Witchers?" Zoltan voiced his concern.

"No" Geralt shook his head, placing the contract back on the table. "Something doesn't seem right"

"What do you think it is?" Jason asked. "A trap? To catch a Witcher? I can assure you that even the Scoiatel are not that crazy. Many of them would be giving their lives"

"I don't know" Geralt sighed. "Not for certain. And I'm also not sure if it's worth the risk"

Jason did not respond, instead took the contract into his hand and folded back into his pocket. Geralt and Zoltan watched him quietly.

"I have until midnight to make a decision" Jason said after he placed the contract back into his pocket.

Geralt and Zoltan only nodded, showing that they understood whose decision it was, and that they would leave it to that person to decide.

"Ah, I do not like sitting here dreary" the dwarf said after a while, breaking the silence the trio. "But fortunately for us, we have a very good friend who owns a tavern. And that good friend surely won't mind if we take a couple of drinks from his bar"

"No" Geralt smiled at the dwarf. "He won't. And even if he does, what will he say?"

"Absolutely nothing!" Zoltan excitedly exclaimed. "I'll get the drinks lads"

With that, the dwarf jumped from his seat, and in quick strides made his way to where the bar was. Jason was surprised his small legs could move so fast.

"So where is the bard?" Jason asked, uninterested.

"Somewhere with Priscilla" Geralt answered, equally uninterested. "Didn't ask where"

Before the uninteresting topic of conversation going on between the Witchers could continue, Zoltan returned with a large bottle of wine and three glasses, and smile which stretched across the entirety of his face. He sat in between the two Witchers, placed a glass in front of each man, then poured the old wine into the glasses. Jason had never been too fond of wine or anything that would dull his senses, but he figured that for now it wouldn't hurt. So he drank. Geralt and Zoltan did the same.

"Ahh, now that is some good wine" Zoltan remarked, swallowing the entire glass of wine in one gulp. "Not as good as dwarven spirit but good enough"

Jason, on the other hand, disliked the taste of the wine. But in an effort to show no discomfort he swallowed the wine without a single cringe.

"So, Geralt" the Dwarf began, filling his glass once again. "How does it feel?"

"Be more specific, Zoltan" Geralt responded, himself refilling his empty glass.

"You know what I'm talking about" Zoltan said. "You're finally free. You have Ciri, the wild hunt is no longer a problem, and that whoreson Emyr seems to have forgotten all about you"

"The emperor doesn't forget" Geralt answered.

"Ah, right. But he's not here now. And Ciri is. You must be feeling…"

"Happy?" Sarcastically Geralt interrupted the Dwarf. "Joyful? Ecstatic?"

"No need to get testy, friend"

"You're right, Zoltan" Geralt shook his head, taking another drink from the wine. "I apologize. And to answer your question truthfully…I'm content"

"I could see that in your eyes" Zoltan commented, smiling at the white haired Witcher. "They remind me of the time we spent on the road together. In Kaedwen, all those years ago. You, Triss, and little Ciri"

"Yea" Geralt nodded, a grin unintentionally marking his otherwise dull face. "That was…what…ten years ago maybe"

"Close enough"

"I remember like it was yesterday" Geralt said. "Triss was sick, couldn't even get up to walk. And Ciri…Ciri was still just a child. Naïve and curious"

"Aye" the Dwarf agreed. "She was a curious one that one. She spent the entire time talking and asking me questions"

"I remember"

"You looked content then as well, Geralt" Zoltan said, patting the Witcher on his stern back. "You always look content when you're around her"

Geralt did not respond, only sat quietly gazing off into a blank abyss. What the Dwarf said was right however, and Jason knew it for certain. He had known Geralt for quite some time, and he had seen him both happy and sad. But it was different when he was around the ashen haired girl. It seemed like nothing else mattered to him when he was with her. Like the whole world could be falling apart around him yet his eyes and mind would remain glued to the girl. He smiled and laughed almost unnaturally when he was with her, even more so than he did with his fellow Witchers. Jason knew, simply by looking at them together, that Geralt cared for her. He cared for her more than he cared or anything else in the entire world.

"You know, lads" Zoltan spoke again, this time looking at both of the Witchers. "Curiosity has donned me. Until that day in Kaer Morhen, I had never seen another Witcher. And since then I've wondered"

"About what?"

"Well I've witnessed Geralt's fighting prowess before" Zoltan said. "And you could say I was slightly impressed"

Geralt mumbled, shaking his head.

"And since you are a Witcher as well" the Dwarf focused on the younger of the two Witchers. "I wondered who would win a fight between the two. A Witcher versus a Witcher…now that would be a sight"

"A sight that you will not see" Geralt said plainly. "We're even. Equal. If we were to fight none would win. There's nothing else to wonder about"

"Eh, if you say so" the Dwarf conceded. Jason only shrugged his shoulders.

"Hmm" Geralt let off a slight laugh, grabbing the bottle of wine from the center of the table and refilling his glass once more. He then gave the bottle to Zoltan, who did the same. Jason, despite barely finishing his first glass did the same.

"There's a game I know" Geralt started, placing his glass of wine directly in front of him. "Lambert showed it to me back at Kaer Morhen"

The Dwarf and the Witcher both looked at each other, but did not say word, instead they allowed Geralt to finish.

"Someone starts by saying 'I have never', then they finish the sentence however they'd like" Geralt continued. "Whoever has done that thing, takes a drink, then the next person goes and so on"

"Seems like a fun game, huh master Dwarf?" Jason nodded.

"I'll give it a try" Zoltan said, placing his glass on the table in front of him. "You should go first, Geralt"

"Fine. Let's see" Geralt began by rubbing his beard, his mind clearly pondering for something to say. "I have never…hmm…seen a unicorn"

"That's what you're going with?" Jason asked incredulously. "I don't think any of us have ever seen a unicorn"

"You must speak for yourself on this one, lad" Zoltan said as he drank from his glass. Jason gave him a curios stare, but did not what ask the Dwarf what he meant. He simply figured it was a joke, or perhaps the Dwarf was already drunk.

"I admit" Geralt took a drink from his glass. "I was stumped. I didn't know what to say"

"I've seen a unicorn" a woman's voice approached from behind Jason, emerging from the mass of people crowding the establishment.

"Ha!" The Dwarf laughed. "Come Ciri! Join us!"

"Gladly" Ciri sat on the only empty seat next to the young Witcher. Zoltan, then, brought her glass and filled it with wine. Geralt did not waste time in explaining the details of the game either.

"Allow me, friends" Zoltan cleared his throat, then began to contemplate. "I have never…ploughed an Elf". He gazed at Ciri awkwardly.

Geralt did not raise his cup, instead narrowed his eyes at the ashen haired girl. Ciri, only slightly moved her hand towards the glass, but then retreated it with a grin aimed at Geralt. Jason on the other hand, recalled his past relations, and in an attempt to be honest, raised his glass and drank.

"Really?" Geralt raised his eyebrows. "Who was it?"

"A woman" Jason recalled, smiling. He remembered her features perfectly. The color of her hair and eyes, the fairness of her skin, the shape of her ears and nose. He remembered all of it. It was etched deep into his mind. "I met her some time ago, near Aldersberg. Who's next?"

"It's your turn" Geralt said.

"Very well" Jason nodded, clearing his throat. "I have never…killed a man"

The faces of the three sitting around him told him everything he needed to know.

"Never?" Geralt asked, just before gulping down the glass of wine. Ciri and Zoltan did the same, their faces full of disbelief. "I find that hard to believe coming from a Witcher"

"It's true" Jason admitted truthfully. "I've never killed a man. I've hurt many of them, simply never finished them off"

"And if they died later on because of you hurting them?"

"I wouldn't know"

"Works I suppose" Geralt shrugged his shoulders, then turned his attention to Ciri. "Your turn"

The girl, placed the empty glass in front of her, waited for it to be refilled, then sighed and prepared to speak.

"Let's see" Ciri wondered. "I have never…passed out while drunk"

"Guilty" the Dwarf admitted as he sipped from his glass, the wine trickling down his thick brown beard. Geralt smiled and drank, looking at Jason who only shook his head.

"Geralt?" Ciri asked with widened eyes.

"What?" Geralt shrugged his shoulders as if to deflect the shame. "It's only happened twice"

"Only twice?" Ciri laughed.

"Yea" Geralt scratched his head, reminiscing. "Once at Kaer Morhen with Lambert and Eskel. The other time…" Geralt paused only for a brief second, and clears his throat. "The other time happened long ago"

"I do believe I know the time of which you speak of, Geralt" Zoltan said. "That mandrake moonshine the herbalist Regis brewed had a good kick to it"

"Hmm" Geralt let off a half smile and a small nod. "Yea…it did"

"Aye" the Dwarf nodded as well. "May he rest peacefully"

"I believe it's my turn once again" Geralt cleared his throat. "I have never…been to a wedding"

This time, none but Cirilla drank. And immediately all eyes fell upon her.

"Well, I've only ever been to one" Ciri said after finishing the glass of wine. "And it was far from here however. Very far"

"I think I understand" Geralt said, nodding at his ashen haired surprise.

"I would ask you to explain those abilities of yours to me" Zoltan said. "But I fear it would be a lengthy and complicated explanation. So I won't ask"

"It's not so…" Ciri reassured, however the look on the dwarfs face prevented her from explaining.

Jason, opposite of the Dwarf was very intrigued by the ashen haired girl and her strange powers. He knew very little, mostly what Eskel had explained him before arriving at Kaer Morhen the previous winter. But even the scarred Witcher admitted to not knowing the full extent of her power. Therefore, Jason only knew what Eskel knew, and he figured that wasn't much.

His curiosity would not be satisfied however, because the conversation between the four sitting around the table soon changed to a much different topic of discussion. It lasted for a while as well. And soon, it came time for the young Witcher to make decision. A decision in which the consequences were unknown.

…

Ciri awoke abruptly. She felt a heavy tightness in chest, as if someone was forcefully pressing in between her breasts. Her entire body was moist with sweat, and her head felt light and on fire. She sat up on the bed, taking some time to steady her breathing and cool herself down. After a short while, she did so, then proceeded to lay back down on the bed.

The dream to which Ciri had so abruptly woken up too proved to be a rather strange on. Much of the dream seemed like a blurry mess to her, but despite that there were some still Ciri could make out. In the dream, there was what looked like a tower sitting on the edge of a cliff. In addition to the strange tower, there was a group of people. Ciri could not make any faces, mostly because of the blurriness that clouded her dream. She did not know what the people were doing or saying, but by the looks of it they seemed to arguing.

What happened next was even more strange. Her dream faded to a black abyss, just before appearing again near the strange tower. This time though, the people were no longer arguing. On the ground, there were pools of red, and corpses littered the area. That's when she awoke, sweaty and out of breath.

The dream was a mystery to Ciri. She was used to her visions. After all the years they seemed like normal to her. But her visions usually consisted of something or someone she knew. This one, however, was different. She did not recognize those involved, and she could not figure out if the event had already taken place or had yet to do so.

It would not make a difference. She was in no position to help anyone at the moment.

…

The sun retreated beyond the horizon quickly, giving way to the star studded night sky and the grey glistening full moon that accompanied it. There was a slight spring breeze blowing through the air, carrying the nasty smell of the city along with it. The lonely lighthouse described in the contract did in fact prove to be very lonely and old. The stone of which it was made of was cracked, and everything from moss and overgrown roots had begun to envelope around the lighthouse. It was a strange spot for a meeting.

Jason made it his plan to arrive earlier than midnight, and he did, as a result taking the time he had to survey the area for anything he would deem out of the ordinary. There wasn't much around the lighthouse however. On one side, there was water, and lots of it, therefore Jason didn't have much to asses. On the other side, the entire area was covered in a thick forest. Forests could be a perfect place for something to hide, but upon his investigation, there was nothing.

The Witcher looked up at the moon trekking close to the center sky. It was almost midnight. He figured whoever he was supposed to meet would soon arrive. He leaned against the cracked stonewall of the old lighthouse, crossing both his arms and his legs. He took one long deep breath, then closed his eyes.

His breathing slowed alongside the pumping of his heart. His senses did the opposite. He could smell the far off stench from the city even more now, as well as the various smells of the dense forest in front of him. He could hear the Owls in the distant trees, the wolves howling from afar, and the slow weak waves crashing against the cliff. Then, came a more unnatural.

From not too far away the Witcher could hear the cracking of twigs and leaves. It sounded like footsteps, and not like an animal. The pattern and sound were distinct from those of a common animal. They were bipedal, and they were approaching.

He opened his eyes, narrowing them and focusing towards the location of the incoming footsteps. He grabbed his medallion, checking for any vibrations. There were none. Cautiously, he pulled his steel sword from its scabbard, tightly holding on to the leather hilt. He stepped forward, making sure that whomever was approaching could see him and his sword clearly. He hoped that if they had any bad intentions, the sight of a Witcher and his blade would discourage them. It didn't take long for the footsteps to reach him.

They emerged from the cover of the trees. Five cloaked and hooded figures stepping carefully and quietly. They stopped when they noticed the Witcher, gazing around the area liked spooked animals. They looked even more spooked when they spotted his blade, however they did not react.

One of them emerged from the back, this one donning a green colored cloak and hood. Jason could see that this one was a woman, or a very thin woman like man judging by the outline of the shoulders beneath the cloak. The others looked like men as far as he could tell. He could not see any weapons on them.

The woman approached Jason very slowly, taking turns looking back at her companions and at the Witchers blade. He thought about sheathing it, giving the woman more comfort, but his life was far more precious to him than her comfort.

Once she was no more than a few steps away from the Witcher, the woman removed the hood covering her head and face. The woman was an Elf, clearly. She had the obvious pointy ears that came along with a beautiful young face. She gazed at the Witcher, and in that gaze Jason could see fear. Fear of what he did not know. Although the sharp steel sword he gripped in his hand could've been a reason.

" _Caedmil, Vatt'ghern"_ the woman greeted in a soft and cautious voice, swallowing nervously just after.

" _Caedmil"_ Jason returned the favor, giving the woman a single nod of his head.

The woman's companions were pacing anxiously. Jason could not see their faces under their hoods despite his efforts.

" _Ninau gwnaeth neen meddwl yn byddai caem"_ The Elven woman said unsurely.

" _Essea yma"_ Jason answered. "I am here"

She turned back to her companions, swallowing nervously yet again before turning back to face the Witcher.

" _Voe'rle_. _Gwneud neen dice y cyffredin iaith"_ she said, her eyes growing just a bit wider with worry. " _Mae'n yw ar gyfer eich hun da_ …Yn dylai neen cael caemm"

 _For my own good?_ Thought the Witcher, pondering the woman's words with confusion. _Why would she ask me not to speak the common tongue? Why shouldn't I have come?_

" _Que'ss gwneud esseath golygu?"_ Jason asked the woman, heeding her words for the time being. He did not know what she meant, but he figured that for the moment it was best for him to acknowledge her warning.

" _Essea rhaid dweud yn"_ she continued, her voice increasing in both fear and volume. " _Yn rhaid mynd…Veloe…vort"_

" _Que'ss?"_

" _Essea eisoes marw"_ she quickly said. " _Ac maen bydd lladd yn! Yn caen neen ymladda maen!""Essea eisoes marw_

The Witcher barely had any time to respond before things spun out of control. The men who had arrived with the woman took notice of what she was saying to the Witcher, and in an instant removed their cloaks and rushed towards both of them. Without the cover of their cloaks and hoods, Jason could see them clearly, and his eyes widened with surprise when they revealed themselves to be not Elves but Humans. There were four of them, all rushing towards the Witcher and the Elf with rage in their eyes. He couldn't see that they had weapons before, but now without the cloak to hide them they stood out like a Halfling in Novigrad.

Without much thought, the Witcher forcefully shoved the woman to the ground behind him, hoping that while there none of the angered would be able reach her. Then, instinctively, he positioned himself in a fighting stance, waiting for the men to come to him. They did. And that decision proved to be the last one they ever made.

The first attacker came at the Witcher like a raging bull, ignoring the fact that his friends were lagging behind him just a bit. He swung low and hard, trying to cripple Jason from his legs. The Witcher reacted quickly, moving his sword down in a position to parry the blow. The man swung again this time high and hard. He was too slow however, and a deft duck of his head allowed the Witcher the perfect opportunity to strike. He slashed horizontally, from right to left, opening the man's stomach from edge to edge. It didn't don him until much later, but that was the first time Jason had ever killed a man.

Not a moment later the three remaining attackers were upon him, swinging their blades with tremendous rage. Rage did not usually go hand in hand with skill however, and so the Witcher used their emotions to his advantage.

He parried a few blows, then executed a quick pirouette in a backwards direction to distance himself from the men. It would've been smart for the men to circle to the Witcher: surround him and overwhelm him. But as Jason noted before, it seemed that rage completely clouded their head. Fortunately for him, that made things much easier.

They rushed towards the Witcher again, all three men swinging at different parts of his body in an attempt to land something, but they proved to be far too slow. The Witchers reflexes accounted and reacted for every blow, instinctively driving him to parry and evade the blows with relative ease. Two of them swung at nearly the exact same moment, and the Witcher performed a swift side step to avoid the blows. The men were left unbalanced, and with two quick slashes of his blade he cut them from head to waist, leaving a long line of blood stretching across their body. They fell not long after.

The remaining attacker took one quick look at his comrades on the floor, then another to the Witcher and his blood covered sword. Jason narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, causing the man to nearly trip on his own feet as he stumbled backwards. The frightened man then decided that facing off against a Witcher was far from a good idea, turning and running back into the forest from which he had emerged. He did not get far.

Jason did not chase the man, but from the woods he heard a loud scream, and he figured that the scream could've only come from one person. He felt a cold shiver run through his body, then the medallion hanging around his neck began to vibrate like never before, tapping against his chest like a beating heart. He felt a cold and abrupt wind coming from behind him, then a loud sound rang through his ears. He turned, only to see another man standing in front a what looked like portal. The man was tall with pointy ears, and at the sight of the Witcher the man grinned. It was not a friendly grin.

" _Caedmil…Vatt'ghern!"_ The man exclaimed just before raising his hand to the direction of the Witcher.

Jason only knew what he saw. And judging by the vibration of his medallion, the sudden cold winds, and the portal from which the man had obviously emerged, it was clear he was dealing with a sorcerer. And when a sorcerer raised his hand in that manner it could only mean one thing. The Witcher barely had enough time to enact his quen sign before a ray of lighting flashed from the sorcerer's hand. The sign did its job, but the spell proved to be powerful enough to still knock the Witcher back and off his feet. Jason felt a lightness in his head from the force of the spell, but seeing as he had no time to take a break he quickly forced himself back onto his feet, standing directly in front of the sorcerer.

The Mage however, did not look at the Witcher, instead walking to the woman who crawled her way near the lighthouse. The woman could only gaze at him in fear, and rightly so. The Mage grabbed the woman from her hair, forcing her to rise her feet. Then, he slammed the woman into the wall of the tower, smearing blood against the cracked stone. The woman fell to her knees, and again, the man forced her up by her hair.

"Let go of the her!" Jason shouted to the Mage, closing a bit of the distance between them. "If you want to kill me then fight me! Let the woman go!"

"Let her go?!" The Mage smirked and laughed as if he'd just heard a grand joke. "No, _Vatt'ghern._ I will not let her go! She had her chance, and she betrayed me! For that she will die!"

He threw her against the wall once more, this time with even more force than the last. More blood smeared against the wall, and the woman it seemed could no longer scream in pain. She fell, only to be pulled right back up.

Jason had seen enough, growling angrily as he rushed to the mage with his sword in his hand. He did not make it. From the corner of his eye he noticed something rapidly approaching him. By the time he managed to react it had already hit him, sending him crashing head first into the ground. He felt a stinging pain in his side where the impact happened, and his head once again began to feel light. He tried to get up, but he was not allowed. Whomever it was that had hit him from the side was now on top of him, and with something very hard and heavy hit across the head. He could feel the blood trickling down his face, and his vision turned into a blurry mess.

"What shall we do with the Witcher?" Jason heard the mages voice, despite being on the verge of unconsciousness.

"Leave him" Another man's voice said. His voice was calm and commanding. "He is not the one"

"We should kill him anyway"

"He is already dead"

The voices ceased, and all Jason could hear now was the sound of the wind and the waves. He heard only that until it all went black. Then he heard nothing.

…

The sun was already rising when Jason regained his consciousness. His head felt as if it were being smacked by a hammer, and the rest of his body ached like never before. He checked his head for any blood, but aside from the already dried there was none.

It took him a while longer to be able to sit up, and once he did his body began to ache even more. He looked around the area. The dead bodies of the men he killed were still there, covered in dirt, flies, and all other types of critters. He looked over to the lighthouse, noticing large amount of blood smeared on the wall. He then looked down, clenching his teeth as he gazed at the motionless corpse of the woman. She did not deserve the fate that befell her. She tried to help him and it cost her life. He felt angry, yet helpless. There was nothing he could do. Not anymore.

With great effort, the Witcher managed to stand up, clutching his ribs and head as a result of the immense pain. He glanced at the direction of Novigrad, and sighed. It was going to be a long walk.

…

 **So guys im back, and I do apologize for a long period of absence but I've just been busy with a few other things.**

 **I also wanted to explain something to you, the readers.**

 **This chapter consisted of a bit of dialogue in the elder speech, which I admit that I am not an expert on. And since im not an expert I could only go by the little of it that I know and that I could find on the internet. There isn't much of it on the internet however, so in place of some of the words that I didn't know I simply filled them in with welsh, which seems to be what the elder speech in mostly based on. So for those of you who are experts…if there are any, I realize that some sentences might not make total sense, and that's only because it's a mixture of the elder speech and the real life welsh language.**

 **Aslo, I know there will be a lot of you that don't know a lick of elder speech or welsh and don't really care for it, so I tried my best to make some responses and hints in the story to make at least somewhat understandable. But if you would like to know what the dialogue means then I will translate it below. I would also appreciate some ideas on a better way to translate, since if I always translate down at the bottom of the story then it'll force readers to scroll up and down just to know what the characters are saying. But anyway here are the translations and thanks to all the follower,, favorites, reviewers and readers.**

' _Caedmil, Vatt'ghern' –_ Greetings, Witcher

' _Ninau gwnaeth neen meddwl yn byddai caem' – 'We did not think you would come'_

" _Essea yma" – 'I am here'_

" _Voe'rle_. _Gwneud neen dice y cyffredin iaith" – 'stop. Do not speak the common language'_

" _Mae'n yw ar gyfer eich hun da_ …Yn dylai neen cael caemm" - 'It is for your own good…you should not have come'

" _Que'ss gwneud esseath golygu?" – 'What do you mean?'_

" _Essea rhaid dweud yn" – 'I must tell you'_

. " _Yn rhaid mynd…Veloe…vort" – 'you must go…quickly…far away'_

" _Essea eisoes marw" – 'I am already dead'_

" _Ac maen bydd lladd yn! Yn caen neen ymladda maen!" – 'and they will kill you! You cannot fight them!'_


End file.
